To Move On
by Ugly.Paper.Swan
Summary: When Levi tells his fallen comrade that his spirit will give him the strength to fight titans, he means it in the most literal sense. All of Levi's fallen comrades hang around after death, along with a bunch of other ghosts, and only he can see them.


**A/N :Decided to deanon after all. A fill from a prompt. (-_-) Enjoy...or...not...**

* * *

Once he had shooed Hanji away and locking the door behind him, Levi stared hard at the floor that he had so thoroughly scrubbed before. To the others, the floor looked absolutely flawless. One can see their own reflection staring back, together with the shine bouncing off from the wax Levi had painstakingly applied. And don't ever forget about the subtle lavender smell that always linger once the Corporal was done working on it.

But to Levi… They were never clean; along with all the other surfaces around him. Absolutely filthy, to the point that even the hardened soldier felt nauseous whenever he dared look. The problem is he can't ever not look. He cannot walk around with his eyes closed all the time like a blind person would. He cannot squint lest he would look like an idiot. The only thing he could do was try to ignore these soiled surfaces to the best of his abilities as a perpetual frown slowly grew permanent on his once naïve façade.

Blood. A truly inhumane amount of blood. That was all Levi could see off the floor. The blood of those who died because of his inability to lead them with better orders, the blood of those who died because he couldn't save them in time, the blood of all those who placed their hopes in him, the ones who didn't want their death to be insignificant and meaningless. And by word, he would never let that happen. Not anymore…if he could help it. But reality can often weigh down heavily, so much, that it would crush Levi under its weight, making him feel utter despair at times.

And it's not only that. The blood has to come from somewhere. It only took Levi a few swivels of his head to see the ghosts of his fallen fellow comrades hovering in the shadows, staring at him with such forlorn expressions, waiting for him to fulfil his promise he had made on their death bed. Sometimes, it wasn't always just them. In the mix, there were random civilians, trainees, children, old men, someone's daughter and lovers. All were there because they know Levi can see them. And they won't go away. Not until their hopes have been fulfilled.

And Levi would help. He would help if he could. But he never truly knows what they want, as they could never speak. He may be able to see them, but the voices of Death would never reach him. Once or twice, there were those who would send some kind of signal, an unvoiced plea, in order to get his attention. And Levi always did.

The signals weren't that hard to follow. Most were straightforward, as Levi would assume.

_'My body is here.' 'Give this ring to that person.' 'Pray for me please, I have no one who can anymore.'_

And most of the time, once he had done as they asked, they would slowly disappear from this world; their unearthly transparent entity gone without a trace. But for those whose wishes were harder to achieve or ones Levi just couldn't understand…they are to stay with him until he could figure out what to do. And sometimes, it would take months, maybe years. Maybe never.

For the promise he had made to his comrades of exterminating all titans, he had not yet been able to make his words count. At times, he would spend countless of sleepless nights, wondering whether he would ever make it. The thought of not being able to do so in this unpredictable lifetime puts Levi in turmoil.

But that doesn't mean he would stop. He will kill every single shitty titans he would come across, by hook or by crook. Until his trembling knees give out in exhaustion. Until his last breath leaves his mortal body. Until the last flicker of life in his eyes dies out.

It was the least he could do. To not let their lives be turned to waste.

For now, however, all he could do was move on. He could not forget nor will he be able to. The ghosts just won't go away. Any other day, the numbers of ghosts haunting him will increase. His work is never done, whether it is to console the dead or as a soldier to the living. He can only do what he can.

A bloodied hand reached for his, making Levi choke. He didn't need to look up to know whose hands it belonged to. Levi squeezed his other hand on top of the spirit's, but he ended up squeezing his own hand. Almost like self-assurance on his part.

"You don't need to worry. I'm Humanity's Strongest. I will prevail," Levi croaked out, his voice hoarse in trying to hold in the oncoming sobs. "So rest well, please…Mike."

After crying in silence alone, with his back against the closed office door, Levi once again picked up the dirtied rag he had let fall on the floor, scrubbing away at the bloodied floor that only he could see.

* * *

**A/N : Oh my god, I'm crying! Why do I torture myself like this?**


End file.
